Out of Time
by Kishoto
Summary: I never thought I'd be here. Not like this. I wanted to be the one watched, not the one doing the watching. Watching myself lose him all over again.


I never thought I'd be here like this. I mean, I'd thought about it. A lot, honestly. Just not like this. I'd thought about being the one at the end of the aisle in a stunning white dress. Walking on time with the beat towards him. Towards his stupid, smiling, perverted, happy, amazing face.

I'd dreamed about it, more times than I'd ever admit to anyone, even though I knew that it could never be. Could never really happen. Not as long as I was me. And he was him. And there'd be no point to any of it, if I wasn't who I was, and he wasn't who HE was. So I kept dreaming, content with what I'd had, with what I'd gotten him to say, and what I'd said in return.

 _"I can't get a girlfriend if you don't want me to. Not yet, at least."_

 _"Not yet? Then, when?"_

 _"Hm…When you get a boyfriend, I guess?"_

 _"But you don't want me to get a boyfriend either, right?"_

 _"Y-Yeah."_

 _"Heh. That's no good."_

 _"No, it isn't."_

But despite what we'd said, it was. It was all I needed. And I looked into his eyes, for those few seconds before the black one ruined the moment, and I thought it was all he needed, too. A paradox. Something as equally impossible and contradictory as saying 'This sentence is a lie.' He would never find another girl to be his number one. Until I found a guy to be my number one, he said.

And, I never told him this part, but even if he'd told me, someday that he would be okay with me finding a boyfriend, I never would. Because as long as I didn't, he couldn't find a girlfriend. And I would hold him to that. He never broke his promises, and that goes double for promises he made to me.

It's almost funny, how all of this started because of a stupid promise…

* * *

We'd both promised to break up at graduation. We would be a couple for three months and then go back to being regular siblings. It was the hardest thing I'd ever had to do and despite the fact that he never complained, I know it was the hardest thing he'd ever done as well. There were nights afterwards where I'd creep into his room, like I used to, and just crawl into bed with him.

I'd wake him up and he'd stare at me, half asleep, before leaning in towards my face, only to change course and plant his lips on my forehead. The odd mix of pleasure and disappointment it gave me was apparent on my face, but he'd simply pat me on the head, and ask if I thought I was getting too big for his brotherly forehead kisses.

We'd both laugh, sadly, and he would hold me for a minute. Sometimes even two. Before gently urging me to leave and go back to my room, even though we both knew that we wanted no such thing. But I would listen. Because he knew best, even when I didn't want to admit it, and I knew that there'd be no going back if I stayed.

Despite our best acting skills, it was clear that neither of us were very good at pretending nothing was wrong, and the people around us noticed. Our friends knew the cause of our distress, and did what they could to cheer us up, in their own ways, but our parents were merely confused. They had no idea why their children, who'd both been so happy and carefree, were suddenly depressed and moody mirrors of each other.

We both played it off. I cited stress from work, he mumbled something about a fight with that plain girl. The excuses held, for a time, but then days turned into weeks. Mom was really concerned, and so was Father, behind his usual, stern expressions. They sat us down, first separately, and then together, trying to get us to tell them what was really going on.

Father asked if this had anything to do with those distasteful otaku things he'd grudgingly allowed me to keep, and I felt something besides listless for the first time in days. I snapped at my father, defending my precious _imoutos_. He glared at me for my disrespect, but I saw acceptance mingled into the look as well. He didn't like my otaku hobby, far from it, but at least he knew it was not responsible for whatever had taken ahold of his children.

When he turned to my brother, I saw him staring back, unmoved by my father's Yakuza-level stare. He tried to lie, again bringing up the plain girl, but my brother never was very good at deceiving people. My father's glare intensified, and the lie died mid-sentence. Instead, he said that what he was dealing with was private, and he'd prefer if his father trust him to handle it, the way he always had.

My father grudgingly assented, leaving us to my mother's worried questioning. We stayed silent, mostly, playing the part of rebellious teenagers to the hilt, and she eventually gave up, assuring us that, when we were ready to talk, she would be there.

And that was the end of that, or so I'd thought. As time passed, we'd slowly gotten back into our old routine and soon, we were back to bickering and hanging out in Akiba with our friends as if nothing had happened. There was still the occasional soft glance, or overlong touch, but we had both accepted what had happened, and moved on. I was preparing to enter high school, and he was looking at colleges in the area.

When I asked him where he was thinking of going, he gave me the names of a few local places he was looking at, places that would allow him to commute and still live at home, to save money.

" _Saving money? Hah, right! You just couldn't bear to be away from me, you sis con!"_

" _Oy! Screw you, how about I go apply to Tokyo-U right now?!"_

" _Nope! Not allowed. I'm going to need someone here to help me with my high school work, what with all the time I spend being Japan's number 1 model. And you're not the brightest, but you're convenient, and free, so you're staying!"_

Even though I'd reacted in the usual way, I knew I didn't have to tell him that I appreciated him choosing to stay. I didn't know what I'd do in three years, when I was graduating, but I didn't have to. My brother had bought me the time I hadn't even known I'd needed, and I was content with things being the same for a long while.

So it caught me totally and completely off guard when I came home one day, and found my mother outside, waiting at the gate, holding a brown book in her hands. She looked like she'd been crying, and I immediately asked her what was wrong. She tried to speak, but couldn't get anything out, her voice catching each time.

I looked past her, at our house, and noticed then that I could hear my father and brother. Their voices were loud, angry. I couldn't hear what was being said, but I hadn't heard them like this since Father had found out about the other part of me, the otaku side I kept hidden from the world. But he already knew about everything, even about the H-games! What could possibly have…?

I gasped as it hit me, the one secret we'd never divulged to him, and I took the book from my mother's shaky hands, opening it. A few glances told me all I needed to know. It was a journal. My brother's, based on the writing and the contents. Most of it was about me, and about the feelings he had for me. About how, even months later, they showed no signs of going away. It was like a long love letter, one that I was never meant to read.

And I realized that it excluded our relationship completely. He'd made no mention of us, anywhere, not of what we had. The way he'd written it, it was like the lovesick ramblings of a fool over a girl who had no idea how he felt. My hands shook as I read it, almost dropping the book as I paged through it furiously. I was angry. So angry.

There was nothing. No mention of us anywhere. He only talked about him, and how HE felt. As if I didn't factor into the equation at all. How could he deny us? What we had? How could he put all this down, without including my own part in things? As if he was the only one in pain? The only one who laid awake at night, touching the thin wall that may as well be made of steel for how it separated us. That idiot! That sister loving, selfish, perverted idiot!

I stormed inside, ignoring my mother's weak protests, and I slammed the door open, ignoring the shoe cubby in my haste as I walked to the living room, where my brother and father were still arguing. I threw open the door, and they both froze. It was like a movie.

My father had my brother's collar firmly gripped in his hand, and he held him against the wall. My brother was furious, his cheeks red with exertion as he protested, both hands surrounding our father's much larger arm.

Both men looked at me. My father's expression grew even angrier, while my brother's dropped, fear replacing the ire. He seemed to be shaking his head at me, although I couldn't really tell, considering how he was being manhandled.

My father asked me to leave the room. I refused. I demanded to know why he was roughing up my brother. He said he couldn't tell me, and I told him that I wouldn't leave until he did. I'd inherited my stubbornness from someone, after all.

After a tense few minutes, he told me about how our mother had found my brother's journal, nestled in the box under his bed where she used to find his dirty magazines. She couldn't resist opening it, out of curiosity, and when she saw that my name was the first thing written inside of it, she couldn't help reading more. It was a distressing thought to find your daughter's name in a notebook that replaced your son's porn.

After the first few pages, she'd tearfully phoned Father, who'd rushed home immediately. They'd then called my brother, who was out with us at Comiket, and told him to come home immediately. Alone.

I'd wondered why he'd never returned after he left to use the phone, but he'd texted and assured me that he was fine, that he just had to help the plain girl out with something.

He'd clearly been trying to hide the fact that he was rushing home to have this confrontation. I wanted to be mad at him, but I couldn't. He was just doing what he always did. Protecting me. Baka. My father shook his head grimly and I blinked, realizing I'd said the last part out loud.

My father told me that stupid didn't begin to describe my brother. He was sick, diseased in the head. A freak. He'd entrusted my care to him, and was furious with the way my brother had strayed from his designated role. Rightfully so, I guess.

I stood there and watched my father speak, hearing what he was saying. I tried to block out what he was saying, but I couldn't. As he yelled about how my brother deserved to be in prison, to be tossed into the streets for how he felt, all I could do was watch, speechless.

Even if he didn't know it, everything my father said applied to me as well. My own father thought I was some diseased, worthless degenerate from society. Someone who didn't deserve the basic right to feel how they felt. He was talking as if I… **we** …were the same as any of the countless criminals he'd encountered during his time as a policeman.

Tears started to spring from my eyes as I took a step back, and my father immediately paused. He realized what he was doing, and his expression softened as he looked at me. He apologized for scaring me and told me that he didn't mean to yell at me. That I wasn't at fault here.

" _But I am, Tou-san…"_

My father blinked, nonplussed, before he gave me his familiar, stern glare. He told me that it was untrue. That my brother was the one at fault, for having such disturbed feelings for me. I shook my head, the tears making it hard to see as I tried to hold my father's gaze.

" _I love him too. I…I love my brother. In that way that no siblings should."_

My father was stunned. He released my brother, causing him to stumble, before turning to me. He looked at my face, to accuse me of lying to protect him perhaps, but he saw past my tears. To the cold, honest resolve that lay behind them. He looked back at my brother, who looked crestfallen, with tears of his own in his eyes.

This was what he was trying to avoid. My brother. That stupid, big hearted idiot. He could do anything. Would do anything. If it meant keeping me, his precious _imouto_ safe. He would've gladly taken the blame for this. For all of it. It's why he'd written his journal the way he had, I realized. He wasn't excluding me because he doubted me and how I felt. He was making sure that if anyone ever found it, I would simply seem to be an innocent victim of my brother's misplaced affections.

But I refused his kindness here. I rejected his assistance, for the first time in who knew how long. I was a selfish, spoiled bitch at times, but there was no way I was letting my brother stand alone. Not here. Not like this.

I walked over to him, to where he'd fallen to his knees, and I touched his face, softly. He looked at me, tears in his eyes, but he still smiled through them, and I smiled back. I leaned down, and put his hand in mine. I squeezed it affectionately, and felt him return my grip.

I pulled him to his feet and as soon as he was upright, I hugged him. I hugged him, like it was the last hug I'd ever give him and I felt him tremble in return, afraid to return my affection in front of our father, who still seemed stunned into silence, staring at the both of us. I leaned back, and looked up into my brother's eyes.

" _Aniki. Leave it to me this time, ne?"_

I turned, his hand in mine, and stared at our father, who was looking at us, at our clasped hands, with a stormy mix of rage, disappointment and hurt. He looked at his children, folded his arms, and said one word.

" _Explain."_

So I did.

I'd like to say I made a passionate case for us, as I told our parents (our father had briefly stepped out to bring in our mother) about our relationship and what it entailed. My brother hopped in at certain points, to explain his side or give his input where it was needed, but mostly stayed silent. He allowed me to speak, gripping my hand at points when I would falter, supporting me and giving me the strength I needed to continue.

My mother sat still, fairly silent, nodding at certain points, as if I was giving her pieces to a puzzle that she didn't know she'd been putting together for some time. My father had regained control of himself, but when he opened his mouth to bark out a question now and then, the clipped tone of his words made it clear he was still furious.

I told them everything. I held nothing back, barring a certain night spent at a certain hotel during our one month anniversary. After all, I didn't want to see my brother murdered, or my father in jail.

I wish I could say we were accepted by our parents, and that they supported us because we really loved each other. But this isn't a fairy tale, and that's not what happened.

Our mother, being who she was, was obviously conflicted. She was clearly off put by this new side to her children that she was learning about all at once, and didn't seem to know quite what to do. Our father was of a completely different mind. He wanted Kyousuke gone immediately. He didn't care what we had. In fact, the depths of it seemed to piss him off even more, and at one point, he looked ready to storm out, before my mother reeled him back in.

We talked for hours, as afternoon turned into evening. Finally, my parents declared that they had much to discuss privately, and would come to a final decision in the morning. It was understandable, given what had happened, but I had one final thing to say to them, something I needed to make absolutely clear.

" _Tou-san. Kaa-san. I…I love aniki. I know you don't get it, but I do. I love him more than anyone else in this world. Even you two. And, if you make him leave, I promise you that I will go with him, wherever he goes, and I will never come back. And I will never call you my parents again."_

And with that threat laid out, I left the room, pulling my brother along as he glanced back awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head as he was led off by his willful little sister.

The next day, our father had reached a conclusion. He would let my brother stay. But that decision came with several, strict conditions. And all of them were non-negotiable.

I was to never be alone with him, whether at home or otherwise. If both of us were out of the house, we were to provide clear evidence that we were going to entirely separate places. If he and mother were both out, then my brother would spend the night at a friend's, or an inn. We would still be allowed to associate with each other, to speak and interact, but only as siblings and only under their watchful eye. Any attempts to circumvent these conditions would be met with harsh punishment, no questions asked.

At first, I was relieved. The new rules were strict beyond measure, sure, but the outcome could've been a lot worse.

And then Father told me that his last rule was for me to get rid of my otaku collection. I looked at him, speechless, and he told me he wanted every last toy, book and game out of my room by this time tomorrow. Or else he would be throwing my brother out, to hell with the consequences.

I started to feel that foggy, lightheaded feeling that I got when I was absolutely furious. I opened my mouth to retort, but my father stopped me.

" _If you truly care for Kyousuke as you say you do, then you will do this Kirino. Is he not worth it?"_

My mouth closed, and I looked at my brother, that rash, pigheaded, loveable fool, who stared at our father in shock. He looked at me and started to babble, stuttering half formed excuses that would allow me to keep the things I treasured so much. The part of me that I valued and kept secret from the world. But I shook my head at him, and reminded him that he was still leaving it to me. And I turned to our father, tears in my eyes.

" _I'd give it all up a thousand times over for Kyousuke."_

My answer surprised my father and he frowned bitterly. He didn't say it, but I think he'd been hoping I would decline. That I would give him a reason to send my brother away. But I didn't. I called the big one and the black one, gave them a brief overview of the situation (with a promise to explain later), and by that afternoon, my room was clear of anything even slightly related to Meruru, little sisters or eroge. I'd even given the black one my body pillow, despite her protests that it would just be used as fodder for her "dark rituals" or what have you.

It was hard. Impossibly so. Each trip down with yet another box broke my heart just a little bit more. I almost refused to part with the final box, and the big one had to almost yank it out of my hands to get me to release it. As they drove off, I felt like crying, but I didn't. I couldn't cry over a decision I made to protect my brother. He was worth it. He was the most valuable thing I'd ever have in my collection, and I had no plans of letting him go. Not now, and not ever.

Six months later, he informed me that he'd been accepted at this great university in Tokyo. Not quite Tokyo-U, but not far off either, and that he planned to accept the offer, and move out in the coming fall. He'd already found a place, and worked something out with our father to help pay for things.

I thought I'd flip out. That I'd go red and curse at him, or kick him, like I used to. Instead, I broke down, asking him why he was leaving me, when we'd been through so much just to get him to stay. When I wouldn't know how to survive without my big brother supporting me every step of the way. He hugged me, and let me cry on his shoulder, staining his shirt with my tears as I cursed at him, feebly begging him to never leave me.

He stroked my hair, softly, and whispered in my ear, low enough so that our mother, who was in the kitchen couldn't hear what he said.

" _Kirino…we can't live like this. Not forever. We need to grow up and move on. We promised to be a normal brother and sister, and that's what we have to do. But we can't do that together. It simply won't work. Our feelings will never change if we're seeing each other, every day. We'll be stuck in this limbo, this siscon/brocon limbo, never able to move on with our lives, yet never able to be with each other."_

He was right. Stupid, dumb idiot. He was right. I knew he was. We'd "broken up" almost a year ago now and I still found myself pining for him. I'd stare at the pictures of us I'd stashed on my phone and remember the best three months of my life. When Ayase would gush about the newest cute transfer student, I'd look at them, and feel nothing. Sure, the boys were cute. Regular heartthrobs.

But when I saw them, my heart stayed still and calm, unmoved. At school, they'd started calling me the Kousaka Ice Queen for how I'd rudely turn down any and all attempts to ask me out. Even upperclassmen had no luck with me. When I was in middle school, being romantically unattached was no big deal. I was a "kid". But I was turning 17 in a few weeks, and I'd never had a boyfriend. I'd never shown even the slightest bit of romantic inkling, despite being one of the most sought after girls in my class.

Mom had been pestering me too, in her own way. Never with anything outright and direct, but just little hints here and there. One day, she'd mention about how she knew a friend whose son was this or that, and the conversation would inevitably lean towards how she could put in a word for me, and see if he was available. And then she'd gush about how we'd probably be the cutest pair, and I'd just roll my eyes and give some excuse to leave the room.

I cried more as I realized I was finally, really losing my brother, and I felt my brother start to tremble, as he tried to keep himself together, for me. To protect me, as he always did. Knowing how hard this was for him only made it hurt worse, and I cursed this stupid, backwards world. We hold love as this ideal, this thing that's rare and special, and should be fought for, no matter the circumstances. Unless it was inconvenient for society, of course. Unless some stuffy old guy wrote in a book a bunch of years ago that you couldn't.

Eventually, I let go and he walked off, presumably to inform Mom about his decision. I heard her cheer enthusiastically from the kitchen, as she gushed about all of the opportunities Tokyo held for Kyousuke and about how she was so proud of him. It went unsaid, but I think all of us could hear what she wasn't saying.

 _Maybe you leaving will finally give you both a chance to get over each other and be normal_

I didn't speak to Kyousuke much after that. I guess I was trying to prepare both of us for how it would be, once he left. Which he did, months later, as he said he would. At first, he called me every day, mostly to listen to me idly chatter about whatever inane thing I'd gotten up to with Ayase, or Saori or even that stupid black cat. Then we agreed to slow it down, maybe only call each other twice a week. Then it became a weekly thing, something we did every Sunday afternoon.

Soon, I was only hearing from my brother on the first Sunday of every month. And even then, the conversations were stilted and short. I found myself tongue tied, not knowing what to say, eager to make excuses to get off the phone. He seemed equally disinterested, not rising to any of my usual jibes the way he would. We were lucky to make it more than ten minutes on the phone, before one of us broke it off, claiming we had something urgent to attend to.

I don't know about him, but I never had something urgent to attend to. Not on those Sundays. I'd made it perfectly clear to anyone involved, from my managers straight up to my parents, or Ayase. The afternoons of the first Sunday of every month were always reserved. It was the time I'd scheduled to speak with Kyousuke. And I never changed that, even though most of that time was now spent staring at a disconnected phone screen, wondering where my brother was.

* * *

Someone shook my shoulder. My eyes snapped up, realizing that I'd been lost in thought for who knows how long. The ceremony had practically ended, as people milled about the church, making small talk and ambling towards the pair standing at the base of the altar, offering their congratulations.

I turned and looked at my friend, my best friend, even after all these years. Her black hair had been cut a bit shorter, only falling to her shoulder blades, whereas I'd let mine grow out, almost to my thighs. Outside of that, we both hadn't changed much, if I was being honest. We were both still beautiful, with that ideal petite model physique that had been what made us so popular in our younger years, although I was happy to say that I'd filled out just a bit more.

I'd never compete with someone like Saori, who had the boobs to go with her height, but I was no longer cute, little flat Kirino either!

"Sorry Ayase, what was that?"

Ayase looked at me, my sadness reflected in her blue eyes. I'd finally told her, soon after he'd left for Tokyo, about what had transpired between me and my brother. She wasn't thrilled, but she also wasn't surprised, and told me that she understood how anyone could fall in love with _Onii-san._ She'd long done what I couldn't and moved on, the ring on her left finger contrasting nicely against her fair skin.

"I said, are you going to go and congratulate him? I know it must've hurt to be here, and I didn't want to make things more difficult for you."

I smiled at my friend, cheekily.

"You're such a worrier Ayase! I'm fine. I'm happy my brother has outgrown his stupid sis con complex."

 _Has outgrown me._

I left the words unsaid, but I think they were clear as day to see in my eyes, and I turned from Ayase, making the motions of going through my purse, so she wouldn't see my tears. She knew anyway, I'm sure, but she let me have my privacy, and let me take a few extra minutes to "find my makeup kit".

I turned back, eyes moist but my cheeks free of tears, and I said,

"Let's go and give our best wishes to the happy couple."

I stood up, making my way out of the pew, offering a soft _gomen_ to the friends and family I slipped past by doing so. I turned and looked at Kyousuke, who was rather dashing in a tux that I'm sure he didn't pick for himself. I smiled softly as memories rose, unbidden, but I forced them down again. They wouldn't be helpful here. Not today.

Ayase gently prodded me, and I stepped forward, heading down the aisle. It was a pale parody of what **she** had done just a few minutes earlier, especially since my dress was a silky, light beige color, with a skirt that wasn't quite floor length, but was almost just so. It hadn't been the most mature move on my part, such a blatant wedding _faux pas_ , but I'll admit I'm not the most mature person at times. Sue me.

People paused their conversations as we passed, offering me a few kind words. Most had no idea of what had occurred between Kyousuke and me, after all. They couldn't know that each congratulation was like nails on a chalkboard for me. But I'd endure. I'd managed to block out the lion's share of the ceremony, I could get through this.

I finally made it to the altar, where the groom was wrapping up his conversation with some guy. I assumed he was someone my brother had met while living in Tokyo, as I didn't recognize him from any of our old Chiba friends. Kyousuke looked over his shoulder and caught my eye, smiling at me the way he used to. Before everything had happened. Before we'd fallen in love.

My breath hitched, and I stumbled back. I would've fallen over, if Ayase wasn't at my elbow, ready to provide me with the support I needed to stay on my feet. She gracefully stepped forward, steadying me and patting me on the shoulder. I looked back at her, silently grateful. I refused to look like a fool. Not today. Not in front of **her**.

I stepped forward as Kyousuke sent the unknown man on his way, before turning to me. He smiled at me and I was prepared this time, for the parts of his smile that were missing. The parts usually reserved just for me. He held his arms open to me, invitingly.

" _Imouto_ - _chan_ , it's been so long. How are you?"

He always called me little sister now. I'd stopped being Kirino years ago. I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around him, almost mechanically. I felt his embrace in kind. Even with the lack of passion, the lack of what we'd had, his embrace still felt so amazing. Even though it was so lacking, I'd stay within his arms all day, like this. I wish I could.

My arms tightened with emotion I never meant to feel, not here. Emotions I'd planned to keep to myself. Almost against my will, I poured out all of my feelings into my two arms and into Kyousuke. My sadness, my pain, my hatred, my rage. But above all, my love. My love which had never gone away, even after all these years. I gave it all, almost unwillingly, and I felt him stiffen in response.

After a few seconds, he leaned back, but my grip tightened further, and my eyes closed, as I buried my face in his chest, the way I had when we were children. When we were happy. I felt the telltale burning in my eyes, but I fought it back. I wouldn't let myself cry. Not here.

After about a minute longer than was appropriate, even for a brother and sister, Kyousuke leaned down, putting his lips near my ear.

"Kirino…please…"

He hadn't called me Kirino in so long and the surprise caught me, and I released him, looking up. He took advantage of the moment and stepped back. Not far enough to run away from me, but not close enough for me to resume my passionate death grip on his tuxedo. He smoothed down his jacket, and idly adjusted his cuff-links, looking back at me with a soft smile that was a little more intimate, but still nowhere near what I wanted. What I needed. Even on this day.

I opened my mouth, prepared to spit out the phrase I'd memorized the day before. I had no honest words to give here and had constructed something simple that still sounded like me, with Ayase's help. I spoke.

 _I guess you finally got the guts to tie the knot. I'm happy for you. Congratulations to you both._

I looked up at him, and he'd stilled, eyes wide. He looked down at me, as if I'd just punched him in the stomach and I realized that the conversations nearest to us had also paused. I turned and looked at Ayase, who was at a loss for words. She looked at me as if I'd just committed some great crime. I felt a stare from my right, one filled with an anger I recognized. A glare that could only be coming from that bitch.

Before I could turn and properly confront her, I felt someone taking my wrist and pulling me aside. I looked up at the suited back of my big brother, as he dragged me from the altar, leaving our friends behind as he pulled me along, through a side door.

The conversations in the church hushed as they saw the groom stepping out so abruptly with someone that wasn't the bride, but most relaxed when they noticed that I was the groom's sister and brushed it off as siblings being siblings. The few that were more aware of what had happened between us as teenagers watched in varying states of confusion. Confusion I shared, as I had no idea what had come over Kyousuke, to make him act like this.

Once we got inside, Kyousuke closed the door behind us, locking it, which only confused me further. We walked a ways down the hallway, far enough that no one could hear us, I presume. He turned to me, his eyes alight with something I hadn't seen in a long time. Anger.

"What the hell is your problem?"

His sentence was terse, quiet but filled with fury. I felt my hackles rising, confusion be damned. I never tolerated being yelled at, least of all by him.

"My problem?! You're the one that dragged me off here with no warning or explanation in front of the whole damned church!"

He looked at me, briefly at a loss, before the anger returned, even hotter than before.

"What did you want me to do? After you went and said something like that?"

"Something like what? That I want you to be happy, that you finally manned up? How are those bad things to say?"

Kyousuke looked even more confused than I felt, his anger spent as he stared at me.

"You…are you serious right now?"

"Yes, dead serious. What's your issue, do you not want me to be happy for you?"

Kyousuke stared at me, honestly conflicted. He bit his lip, looking away, before looking back at me.

"That's…you didn't say that. Not even close."

I wanted to tell him he was lying and kick him for being so stupid, like I used to, but I remembered how Ayase had stared at me. At how **she** had looked at me, with that affronted stare. My usual bluster faltered and I looked up at him with trepidation.

"Then…then what did I say? Tell me."

Suddenly, it became important that I know. It became important that he tell me exactly what I'd said. I didn't only want to know for myself. I wanted to know that HE knew as well. Kyousuke sighed, looking down at me with sad eyes, something I wasn't used to seeing from my brother. He'd always been so confident, ready to handle anything.

"I can't be happy for you."

I was back at the altar. I saw my brother's face in my mind, as he blinked, processing what I'd just said to him.

"It should have been us tying the knot up here today."

I saw myself show the simple band with the heart set with diamonds that I'd taken to wearing on my left hand. The engagement ring he'd gotten me and that I'd returned so many years ago, only to find it in his room long after he'd left, buried among a handful of other forgotten knickknacks.

"I'll never congratulate her for stealing you away from me."

As I said the final part, I saw myself look over at the woman. The one who'd beaten me in the end.

I came back to reality, my eyes wide as I stared at my brother, who stared down at me, his face unreadable, which would've made me chuckle if I'd had the capacity to. Kyousuke didn't DO unreadable. His face might as well have been an open book to me, for all the good it did him in hiding how he felt. Except right now, I guess.

"Why did you say those things? What were you trying to do?"

I suddenly felt angry, irrationally angry. I shoved him, causing him to fall to the ground, reminiscent of our younger days.

"It's all your fault anyway! You're the worst big brother in the world! Big brothers don't make their little sisters fall in love with them! Big brothers don't leave and never talk to their little sisters again! Big brothers don't run around breaking their word..."

My tears were back, probably ruining my reapplied makeup, but I did nothing to stop them. I doubt I could, if I tried. This was a rush of feelings I'd spent years pushing away, and now I was forced to deal with the consequences. But I certainly wouldn't do it alone.

"You said…you said you'd never get a girlfriend. That you wouldn't, so long as I didn't have a boyfriend."

I laughed, although it was more of a sob than anything else.

"Well, here I am. Kousaka Kirino. Still single, after all this time. No boyfriend in sight. But no, not you. You went one step further, you found a woman to be your wife."

Kyousuke looked up at me, leaning back on his palms. He didn't seem to care that he was dirtying what was probably a really expensive tuxedo. His face was sad, but resigned, as if he were hearing news he didn't like, but that he'd heard many times before. And I guess, in a way, he had.

"Kirino…"

"DON'T!" I shouted, cutting him off. "I stopped being Kirino to you years ago, ever since you sent me that mail. Don't try and pretend now, because I'm mad."

Kyousuke looked at me, eyes searching, before I saw fire start to return to them.

"Me?" he growled out, almost threateningly. He stood to his feet, standing over me, but I stared right back, unyielding. It would be a cold day in hell before I was ever afraid of Kousaka Kyousuke.

"You're the one who told me to go. That you didn't care what I did, and that you released me from all brotherly obligation, because you didn't need me!"

I stepped back, the raw edge in my brother's voice surprising me. This was clearly something he'd been holding in reserve for years as well. It took me less than a second to get mad, and I dug down into my purse, pulling out my phone.

I navigated through the menu, tapping a few buttons before shoving the screen in his face. He leaned back, as I'd narrowly missed his eye. He read over the first few words, before looking away. He didn't need to read anymore, he probably knew the contents almost as well as I did. I'd been through four different phones by now, but I always backed up and saved this message to come with me, the mail my brother sent me that marked the day I stopped being Kirino to him.

 _Ohayo Kirino…I know I'm usually supposed to call today, but some things came up, and I won't get the chance. It's actually kind of embarrassing, as I had something important to talk to you about. Oh well, I guess it can't be helped, here I go…I'd like you to release me from our pact. You know, our agreement, to never date someone unless the other person's dating someone? It's just…there's this girl. I know it sounds stupid, and you're probably going to hate me for it, but I figured that we should try and branch out, ne? You should try and get a boyfriend too! I think it'll help us both out a lot, what do you say?_

Kyousuke reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone, before scrolling through it, and tapping the screen. He turned it to face me, and I saw my response to his message displayed before me, and this time I was the one that looked away.

 _Oh, that old thing? You were still holding on to that? Wow, you're such a sis con! Anyway, since you seem soooo bent out of shape, I'll just tell you. Go on and do whatever you want. I release you from all your brotherly duties, ok? I don't need you anymore, we're not kids. In fact, I've had a boyfriend for a little while now. Don't we look happy?_

I didn't see the picture I'd attached to it, all those years ago. Maybe he'd deleted it? It had been a picture of me and some brown haired kid I'd pulled in for a selfie with me. He'd been confused at first, but was all too eager to pose for a picture with the prettiest freshman at Kyoto University. I'd never even gotten his name.

The tactic was typical Kirino. I thought my message was transparent, that Kyousuke would yell at me and call me out for my shit, and I could yell at him, and grudgingly confess that I was lying, because the thought of him with another girl, even after so much time, still terrified me. But he didn't. His response took hours to come in and, when it did, it was much shorter, and simpler. The Kyousuke of today scrolled down to display a few characters that barely took up the bottom of the screen.

 _Yes you do. Congratulations imouto-chan._

"I lied a lot that day."

I froze, staring at Kyousuke, whose eyes held something I'd seen reflected countless times in my own. Sadness and loss, aged over years of missing the person you loved.

"I'd spoken to Mom earlier, and she'd told me about how she was concerned about you. How she thought you'd never find anyone to love the way you'd loved me. She…she blamed me, I think. She said that she didn't think you'd ever find someone to replace me, and that you'd just remain as you were forever, pining after what could never be. She said that we were holding each other back from getting on with our lives, even though we were hundreds of miles away."

Mom was always pretty perceptive. More than she'd ever led me to believe. Dammit.

"She said that it would be best if I ended things with you. If I made it absolutely clear that we could never be together. I told her that we'd done that, pretty much, but she persisted. She told me to go and find a girlfriend. Anyone would do, practically. She felt like if I found someone, it would give you the incentive you needed to find someone too. I knew I couldn't do it, and told her as much, but she begged me to lie to you, if I had to. She told me that I owed it to you, her and Dad to be a good big brother. And that's when I sent you that mail."

Kyousuke lurched forward, startling me with an embrace. One that was most definitely _not_ mechanical at all. I felt everything that had been missing from his eyes, his smile, his touch, for all these years. Every hug, kiss and caress I'd been denied all these years. All of his love and warmth. It was there. And it felt...

Put it this way. I would've stood in the dry, aloof embrace he'd given me at the altar all day. I could stand here, in **this** , for the rest of my life.

"When you sent me that picture, I took one look and threw my phone clear across the room. It smashed against the wall and electronics got scattered everywhere. It scared the shit out of my roommate."

Kyousuke laughed, though it held little joy.

"I wanted to tell you off so badly. I wanted to yell at you and ask you how you could've forgotten what we'd sworn to each other so long ago. But I doubt you would've heard me all the way over in Kyoto, no matter how loud I yelled, so I left to go and purchase a new phone. By the time I'd made my way to the electronics store and replaced it, I'd made up my mind. I wouldn't be selfish. I would lie to you again. I would tell you I was happy for you. I typed out so many drafts. So many times I erased them, deciding to just call you and cancel the whole charade, but I kept chickening out."

Kyousuke closed his eyes and I felt his chin rest on top of my head. It felt warm and like it was always meant to be there. Like I was almost meant to be here.

"I couldn't see the picture, because it didn't carry over to my new phone, but I could remember it, even though I'd only seen it for a second. I saw you, smiling that perfect smile of yours, with some damned guy that wasn't me. You looked…happy."

He said the word as if he still didn't want to believe it.

"And I realized that, if you really were happy, I had no right to selfishly take that away from you. So I said what I could. But I couldn't…I couldn't put your name down. I couldn't ask Kirino, my Kirino, to be happy without me. I simply couldn't. I was too selfish. So you became _imouto-chan_."

He pulled back and kissed my forehead, the familiar contact making my heart race as I recalled all the times he'd done that for me before. And how long it'd been since the last time.

"I prayed you would be happy. I selfishly held onto my Kirino, and I prayed that my _imouto_ could find happiness that didn't involve me."

I looked up, and I saw tears running freely down Kyousuke's face. I looked at my phone, and I clicked a button, before swiveling the display back to him.

"Do I look happy, _aniki_?"

The question was barely more than a whisper, as I showed him the picture and he looked at it. Really looked at it, the way he couldn't before. I saw the initial anger, the anger which had spurred him to throw his phone, and then I saw him squint and peer down at my face. My face from years past, and his eyes widened, as his breath caught.

"I've never seen you look worse."

He said it, almost in awe, but with complete confidence. He wasn't saying his opinion, he was stating a fact.

The Kousaka Kirino in that photo had on a picture perfect smile that was all teeth and perky cheeks. Her arm was slung around the boy's shoulder haphazardly, and her eyes were wide. It was a model worthy shot and, taken with a better camera, it wouldn't have looked out of place in one of the many magazines I'd posed in over the years.

But one look at those eyes told the real story. They were wide, and crinkled at the edge, like any smile would cause, but you could see the falsity for what it was. You could see that it was a paper thin visage, not meant to fool anyone who was more than a casual observer. Those eyes were dark, and limp. There was a single unshed tear in the corner of the one on the left, almost invisible.

No. The person in that photo couldn't be called happy by anyone who knew me. I couldn't have fooled Kanako, let alone Kyousuke with such a picture. And I knew that. That was half the point of the picture. He was supposed to see that I was hurting. He should've known. He would've known, if circumstances had just been a little different.

But they weren't. And so a stupid misunderstanding had helped widen what was already a growing gap. And time, distance and self-denial had done the rest. Until I heard that he was dating that girl. I'd flew home immediately, incensed. And tracked them down, ready to give Kyousuke the tirade I'd spent years nurturing, but I lost all of my steam when I saw him walking with her, laughing at what she'd said, arm in arm.

He sounded honestly and genuinely happy. Happier than I'd heard him in our last dozen phone calls, combined. And I couldn't take that away from him. I couldn't ask him to join me back in this socially unacceptable limbo. He didn't deserve to suffer that way. Not when he'd been lucky enough to get out. So I left, with no fanfare, and I let the gap widen between us, doing nothing to stop it, until I felt like I did all those years ago, like I was looking across a chasm at my brother, who stood alone on the other side, with his back to me.

I filled my days with work and friends and anime. I went through the motions and eventually learnt to live with the knowledge that she'd won, in the end. I wouldn't call myself depressed, not exactly, but I definitely wasn't happy. Or at least as happy as I could be. It was like…imagine you were dying of thirst, and someone gave you a glass of water. You drank it, and you weren't dying anymore, but you were still very thirsty. I felt like that. Like everything I did was just a glass of water against my thirst for life.

It was only made worse when I received the wedding invitation, months ago. I'd torn it up, and thrown it in the trash, I didn't bother looking at it. But my mother called, gushing about the news. I tried to be happy, I really did, but I was never good at hiding things from her. I knew she knew that something was wrong. I also knew that she probably knew what it was, but didn't want to bring it up. I didn't have the heart to blame her. All she told me was that she thought it would make Kyousuke really happy if I showed up.

And that was all she needed to say, and I found myself, months later, on a plane home for the worst reason I could've ever imagined.

He looked at me, and I stared back at him, into those soft, dark eyes. He made no efforts to wipe his cheeks, so I raised my hand, gently brushing the tracks away. I smiled up at him, brokenly.

"You shouldn't cry on your wedding day, Kyousuke."

I don't know who leaned in first. And I couldn't care less.

After a few minutes, we parted, our foreheads resting on each other as we stared into each other's eyes, with emotions we hadn't expressed in almost a decade. Open admiration. Desire. Love. So much love. A love I'd never let go of, a love I thought I'd lost forever.

He kissed me again, pulling my body towards him, as if we could become one through sheer pressure and force of will. I made no effort to resist as I tangled my hands in his blue-black hair. He'd grown it out a bit since I'd last seen him, and I can't say I was displeased with the result.

I lost myself in this haze, in this wonderful, familiar haze for several minutes before I stopped, forcing myself back to reality as I felt his lips leave mine, and start to descend, making a slow, torturous journey to the nape of my neck…

"Kyousuke!"

I pushed him back, with what little restraint I had, and he paused, coming up as he looked into my eyes, clearly as far gone as I was in…this. Whatever it was.

After a few seconds of eye contact, glorious eye contact, I closed my eyes and buried my face into his chest, inhaling deeply. I couldn't say he smelt the same anymore, but there were still familiar undertones. I could still smell some of the Kyousuke I remembered.

"What are we doing?"

I mumbled it into his chest, but I know he heard me. I felt his hand on my head, like he did so much in the past, and I felt more than heard him smile.

"What do I always say, Kirino?"

I shivered. I hadn't heard him say my name like that in who knows how long.

"I'm sorry, aniki. I'm sorry for being so dumb and stupid and selfish and contradictory. And…and everything!"

He smiled at me. I knew I wasn't one to admit my faults often, and he knew it too, but I'd admit them again and again to him. Always to him. He tilted my head up, and kissed me. This wasn't like the previous ones, filled with passion and need. No. This was a soft, closed mouth kiss. One filled with love and unspoken words. It was a kiss I remembered. It was the kiss we'd shared all those years ago, on our own "wedding" day.

He pulled back, only to lean in and kiss me again. Two times, and then three. Each just as loving as the last.

"I'm sorry too, Kirino. For everything. Now just leave it to me."

It was a familiar phrase, one that filled me with a sense of security and safety. He'd never failed me when he said that, and I doubt he would start now, but I refused it, just as I did before our parents, years ago. I shook my head, and he looked down at me questioningly.

He seemed a bit conflicted and he rubbed the back of his head, glancing away.

"That is, I mean…if that's what you want? Because, I know I want it, but you may not. I know it's been a long time, and we really hurt each other, and I know you probably can't trust me anymore, but it's…"

I hushed him softly, my finger over his lips, and he stopped talking. I smiled at him, the way I thought I'd never be able to smile at him again.

"I'm not leaving anything to just you anymore, aniki. We're not kids. We'll stand together as equals."

I took his hand and clasped it with my own, intertwining our fingers. I raised the pair and kissed the back of his hand, softly.

"We'll do it together, this time. Together, forever. If you'll have me."

Kyousuke looked taken aback. I'd well and truly stunned my brother, but he got over it quickly and he smiled at me. It was the widest smile I'd seen from Kyousuke in much too long and he simply nodded, kissing the back of my hand in response.

We turned, walking down the hallway towards the door he'd locked however long ago. It was the door that would lead to the rest of our lives, for better or worse. As we walked, I couldn't help thinking about it. We were about to walk back out into that wedding chapel hand in hand, to confront our family and friends, who'd seen me utterly deride my brother's union before being pulled off by said brother in private for what had to have been at least half an hour.

The thought scared me and I glanced at Kyousuke, and I could see it scared him too.

"Hey, you know, there's a back entrance out of here. Maybe we should leave through there? We could sneak off, give everyone time to cool off and confront them later? Or…never?"

He almost sounded hopeful, and I know he was probably thinking about his wife. Even with how I felt towards her, I couldn't find joy in what we were about to do to her. To all of our loved ones, really. This wasn't going to be clean, or pretty. There'd probably be lots of tears and lots of yelling. Ayase would have my head, and I'll probably need to stop Father from physically attacking Kyousuke. To say nothing about how that plain girl would react.

 _The amazing brother you loved never existed. Furthermore, a sister shouldn't be in love with her own brother._

 _Two siblings becoming lovers is disgusting._

 _It's only natural that siblings cannot get married._

 _I got accepted to Tokyo Metropolitan University too. I'm so happy I get to be together with Kyou-chan!_

 _Kirino-chan! Kirino-chan! Did Kyousuke tell you? We're engaged!_

 _You are cordially invited to celebrate the union of Kousaka Kyousuke and Tamura Manami._

I couldn't find it in myself to hate Manami completely for what she'd done over the years. I know she was doing what she thought was best, for both me and Kyousuke. But I also couldn't fully forgive her for what she'd done. She'd been the catalyst to my brother's borderline descent into mediocrity, and my own, admittedly irrational, rebellion against it. She'd caused so much pain for the both of us, with her well-meaning actions.

Regardless. That was all in the past now. Right now, I'm here, with the man I love desperately pulling me away from the door that would lead us to the rest of our lives. I dug my heels in, and he stopped, looking back at me.

"Kyousuke…I'm done running away from what we have. I'm done pushing you, pushing US, away."

I pulled him to me, gripping his arm and grinning up at him cheekily.

"I don't care if we have to fight through a hundred Moms. Or Fathers. Or Manamis. As long as I'm doing it by your side, I'm not afraid."

Kyousuke looked at me, and something in my expression made him smile, and I could practically see the tension leaving his shoulders.

"Well, I can't have you showing me up then, can I?"

We walked towards the door, hand in hand, and I found myself grinning. I probably looked completely insane, but I didn't care. I was done caring what people thought about me. As long as I had him on my arm, I could care less.

This isn't a fairy tale. There's no magical ending where me and Kyousuke walk out and are greeted with bemused but accepting smiles, and congratulations on our rediscovered love. No, this would be a bitter, annoying day that would probably leave several hearts broken, and the both of us with an enormous headache.

We'd need to call the priest and get an annulment or something, I had no clue how those even worked.

We'd need to apologize profusely to Manami and her family, assuming they'd agree to see us at all.

We'd need to make sure Father didn't kill Kyousuke on the spot.

We'd need to…we'd need to do a lot of things.

And as we made it to the door, and Kyousuke looked at me, as if to ask me if I was sure, I couldn't bring myself to care about the thousand and one things we'd need to do once we opened that door and faced our responsibilities. Because he was with me.

I pulled him from the door, kissing him suddenly, strongly and fiercely. He reciprocated almost immediately, and I basked in his warmth as I felt my feelings for him flare up, as strong as they'd ever been, even after all these years I'd spent forcing them down. I released him and stepped back, still keeping a fierce grip on his hand as I smiled at him. I reached out and twisted the lock, hearing it click as it released itself from the chamber.

We'd have the rest of forever to tackle what waited outside that door. And that would be more than enough time, so I had nothing to fear.

I opened the door, to a storm composed of concerned questions, outraged shouts and the fury of one Tamura Manami.

And I faced it gladly with my brother's hand in mine.


End file.
